The Dead One's Weeping
- LECTURES 35
- Votes 0
- Chapitres 10
Contenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture6m
Dernière publication lun., déc. 26, 2016
She would always cry. Maybe that's why they left. "Two Faced". "Depressed". "Weak". She had heard those words too many times. Her conscious never did let her kill herself. What kind of flaky God is pulling her strings?
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No words
Words are stuck deep down in her throat. Heart. Soul. No one gives her attention because they all brush her off as the silent girl. The one too dumb to speak.Terminé
The Ride Home (Tko x Reader)
Holy crap it's another one. Twin au because it's easier. ~~~ "Where does this go?" Y/n asked. "Wherever your heart desires." They answered. That was a strange way to answer wherever. But Y/n didn't care. She just needed to get away. "Take me far away." Y/n ordered. "How far does your heart wish to go?" They asked. Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I don't know! Just get me away from here!" Y/n exclaimed. ~~~ Y/n lived a rough life. She eventually got so tired and decided to just run away to try and solve her problems. But she never realized that this was just the beginning, starting with a mysterious bus.Terminé
THE RETURN | Kirill Ivanov
FORMERLY V D' YAVOL. For as long as she can remember, Dream has been... dreaming. Very vividly. She saw how her childhood dog died two days before he actually did, so she had plenty of time to prepare herself-her words. She's been to plenty psychologists and sleep specialists, but they all say the same thing. Nothing to worry about. So, her parents gave it to God. And nothing happened. She's grown used to it by now. She sees a face, sometimes hears a name, and then whatever happens to that person. Murder, the lottery, a death in the family, etc. You name it, she's seen it. She pays the dreams no mind because she can't control or stop any of them all the time. It's out of her hands. But on one holy night, she sees a man. Limping. Crying. Bloody. Yet this time, she can't see a face.Terminé
Tired of Lies
*(COMPLETED) "The worst thing about being lied to is knowing you weren't worth the truth." He bit his lip. "I wanted to te-" His eyes began to water and as a single tear fell he looked at me and said "but what if you've been lying for so long you don't know how to tell the truth?" "I have and so will you." He shook his head, shut his eyes, and leaned his forehead against the glass. "And here I was thinking you would admit that you don't tell the truth either." I gripped the telephone as my knuckles turned white. "What do you mean?" "Come on Zoey I've seen you sneaking around acting like you're busy. You're hiding something and you won't tell me." All Zoey Campbell ever wanted to do was keep her head down and get through high school. Too bad it isn't that easy. Zoey is tired of everything and everyone. She is tired of being pushed around and tired of watching in the shadows. She is tired of pretending to like that girl that doesn't even know her name. Tired of pretending that she is ok when she isn't. She is constantly hoping for a better way out thinking she should just disappear. All she wants to do is scream but no matter how loud she screams no one can hear her. Don't worry things just get worse. Everyone thinks she's a "sick" girl and just another suicide case waiting to happen. I mean what kind of girl sits by herself everyday right? Zoey is running out of time and she thinks no one has tried to help her until her "special" speech in class. No one really cares about what she really thinks anyway. It just that feeling of pity. Everyone thinks she really is sick but she knows she's not. But what if she is? Maybe all it takes is that one thing to make her snap. As her life gets thrown into chaos and deep dark secrets she can't help but try to figure out the truth. Will she find a way to let her new friends save her or will she just end up as another suicide case? *Disclaimer wrote this in 2017 when I was 14.Terminé
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 |𝟏𝟖+
**𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳** Panic surges through me, and before I know it, I'm turning on my heel, trying to run, to escape the impending punishment. I barely make it a few steps before I feel his hand clamp down on my hair, yanking me back with terrifying force. "Going somewhere, little girl?" "P-please let g- ahh! Please! H-Hurts me!" "Afraid, are we now, baby?" His voice is a snarl now, filled with fury. "L-leave m-me," tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I'm scared of him, scared of what he'll do to my friend, scared of what he'll do to me. His grip on my hair tightens and I wince, choking back a sob. "Oh, why? Don't you like my hands on you, baby?" He mocks hurt that instantly turns back into anger. "But you were fine when that fucker touched you, ain't that right?" Then he pulls a silver knife out of his suit, twirling it lazily between his ink-covered knuckles and my blood freezes at the sight of that psychotic grin. ***** People quaked with fear at the sound of his name and me along with them. He was Demetrios 'the God' Nikolayev and he was first in command of Russian mafia. He was a true psychopath who enjoyed hurting people, and I hated him for that. The worst thing - he owned me. "Try to accept the darkness, because from now on, it will be your only light." I tried so hard, but I couldn't understand it back then. How possibly can darkness be light? ***** This is not a vanilla romance but a dark, toxic, perverted, obsessive story. The book contains mature themes such as foul language, bdsm, sexual and abusive content, kinks, blood, manipulation, etc. Please keep that in mind.
The Woman Who Blasphemed
The drip, drip brought back the memory of those screams. She could smell the crimson from that day, or was it crimson, salt, left behind by the blood and tears of some other prisoner. Were they abused? She wondered. How were her children. She thought of them a dozen times a day, she asked the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost to keep them safe. Jamil she had long ago realized would be spared his father's beatings. That day only brought it to her conscious. She had always known. But she saw it that day. Her beautiful daughter Maryam, that was who she was more worried about. Drip, drip. Splat. Splat. The water smelled bad. Sour, of shit. It tasted even worse. She had been forced to drink it, they had starved her, and deprived her of water for a few days. Was it days? She didn't know. There was no night and day in this place. Just the collective quiet and screams for food, for water, for mercy. Confessions of sins that the prisoners had not committed, anything to get out. Most harrowing were the screams. The whips, the flays, the screams. She winced every time she heard one. She shivered the first time she had heard one. She shuddered as she thought of that. The hair on her back rose, she pulled her arms around herself. It was unearthly. Not an animal's scream, not her screams when her husband beat her, not even when he had hit her with a bat. Not the screams of the dog that those kids had cornered, and were poking with sticks, some throwing stones at it, as if it were the devil himself. No, none of those screams. This came from a deeper place. This was a scream from before civilization. From before language. This was a scream, guttural. Loud, screeching, very much in pain.Terminé
The experiment.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.Terminé
Caged By Him
"WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD?" He trapped my trembling body between his arms and slammed his fist into the wall. I flinch at the sound as I feel tears forming in my eyes. "I'M SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR CRYING. JUST ACCEPT THE FACT THAT YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING. THIS IS YOUR LIFE NOW, WITH ME" He spits, anger consuming his voice as I push myself further against the wall. Shutting my eyes closed and turning my face to the side as I do. Moments later, I feel his rough hand on my waist and his finger grazing my cheek. "Look at me, love." His hand grips onto my jaw, his thumb playing across my lower lip. He turns my face to meet his as I lower my gaze to the floor. He lowers himself to my level and I feel his breath fanning my cheek causing my breathing to become unsteady. "I love you so much, darling. But you need to learn. You need to learn that you won't be going anywhere. You're mine." With that being said, his other hand slides down to my waist "Your entire body, your mind, your soul. All mine." All I could do was tremble at his touch. How can someone so beautiful be so heartless? ~~~~~~~~~~ All a 19 year old Aurora Shaw wanted to do was work to make a living and volunteer at the orphanage. Unfortunately for her, ruthless and cunning 26 year old Mafia leader and billionaire Tristan Black had other plans for her. He's been waiting for the perfect moment to kidnap her and finally make her his queen after 2 years of watching and stalking her every move. He'd kill anyone who gets in the way of getting what he wants. What will happen when he ruins everything she wanted and forces her to marry him? Will she escape and resist him? Or will she submit and accept her fate?Terminé
Words are stuck deep down in her throat. Heart. Soul. No one gives her attention because they all brush her off as the silent girl. The one too dumb to speak.
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